I Sat Alone by the Gate by Mary Efendi

Author:Mary Efendi [Efendi, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Greenleaf Book Group Press
Published: 2023-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 25

IN FRONT OF A CLOSED DOOR

The registrar’s office opened at eight a.m., but I’d been up since six, reviewing the list that I had printed at the library a few days ago and arranging the documents in the folder.

The building was enormous. The suspended glass structure reflected the blue cloudless sky and shone like a spaceship. The entrance was preceded by steps that ran the perimeter of the building, separated by three metal banisters. In the distance, I could see a small pond surrounded by tall grass, with several weeping willows rooted very close to the waterline.

I took the stairs up and walked through the two sliding doors, remembering Varda’s instructions. I made a right and kept going, soon recognizing the wide-open area that Varda described as the admissions office. There were four employees at the front. Each was seated behind a wide desk with a bright blue lamp suspended above. Each leaned forward in front of their computers, reading something with concentration, none of them noticing me. I saw a sign reading “Admissions and Financial Aid” hanging above the first counter and approached the lady standing there. Her curly red hair was pinned in a bun above her head and thick glasses kept sliding down her nose. She refused to acknowledge me until I had cleared my throat several times.

“Good morning,” she finally said. “How can I help you?”

“I would like to take classes here. Here, I’ve filled out the application and brought all the necessary documents. I got them in this folder.”

The redhead quickly sifted through the contents of my folder.

“What about your Social Security card? And your ID?”

“I don’t have it,” I replied.

“Well, that will pose a problem,” she said.

“I did bring two bills with me,” I argued, though I was already losing hope.

“We can take the utility bills, but only if you have a Social Security card. I cannot accept just this. Did you read our website?”

I had and I knew that this might not work. Varda had warned me that sometimes it all came down to who was working at the counter. Technically, I could not study until I had a Social Security card, but a utility bill could potentially work as proof-of-residence. Even though I had prepared myself for the possibility that I might not have any luck today, the entire exchange had come and gone too quickly—my defeat had been too effortless, and I could not keep my composure. Her words struck me, and I suddenly could not control the tears rolling down my cheeks. I felt embarrassed to cry in public, to show such weakness. The lady at the counter maintained her blank stare and had no discernable reaction to my tears. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell her about the day I found the pamphlet lying on my desk and how it brought faith into my life, filling me with hopes and aspirations to become a part of this place. Yet, I stood in front of her, unable

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